Best Windy Poems
Blossom floats down from cherry trees
pink confetti drifts on the breeze
it’s windblown
Storm clouds gathering all around
blustery gales turn the sails round
of windmills
Riding the surf board standing tall
crest a wave trying not to fall
windsurfers
Jan Allison
22nd November 2014
Sponsor Nette Onclaud
Contest: Fire, Earth, Wind
Chosen Word: Wind
Syllables checked with How Many Syllables counter
~awarded 5th place~
Tonight, her footsteps crack and moan —
She's useless when her tears frost over,
The gutter running without her, alone
There's another ghost inside porchlight silver,
A foot melting on the banister —
She's dark as the wind that picks her up,
This twisting whirl of white clumps
Against wind now seeming touchable —
Outside, the snow jumps
With the draft...and then the window's wail,
Being broken apart like snowflakes assails,
She touches the real parts in foggy glass —
The cold that blasts through a girl's face,
Years after, the woman outside this table —
So the terrace is her cup, white laughter, dark tastes.
I love to watch you wind,
as you sway the trees and blow
across the fields in a gentle breeze,
but I wonder where you go.
You disappear sometimes
in a mischievous sort of way
then when I least expect it
you come back out to play.
You sing a tune in Winter
that seems so harsh to some,
but I for one feel lucky
when I hear your music come.
In Spring you gently billow
and bring life back again.
No matter what the season,
I love to hear your wind.
When you come a calling
on a warm day in July
you fill my heart with calmness
with your sweet, sweet lullaby.
Your summer breaths are subtle
with every chord you sound,
and in Autumn you’re pure magic
when leaves start rustling round.
Your icy winds of November
that rouse the calmest sea
bring danger to the sailors,
but never frighten me.
For I crave to hear you murmur
with bravado of your tales
of your journey across the horizon
as November’s fiercest gales.
Oh wind, Oh wind I love thee.
You’re music to my ears,.
and you’ve given me much pleasure
for oh so many years…
Wicked wind I hate you so,
I’d rather sit in ice cold snow,
Your breath is cold and touch
So fraught, I think your soul from
Devil bought
A paragraph from weather’s
Tale, you’d think you were the
Holy Grail; speeding, pushing,
Blowing crush
None escapes your windy whoosh!
Cutty Sark or clothes on bush,
Strutting, cutting, butting breeze
Lifts old maids’ dress past their knees,
Blows the lash from pretty eyes,
Takes the thrush and clouds from
Skies; no escape from this cruel jape
Windy, weather, mistral‘s shape
It is late September again.
Under a warming sun, your hand holds my hand.
Now the horizon sits – a silent spectator.
When gently huffs the wind,
twilight cascades upon my skin.
We lay in misty vapor from
dusk’s bursting promise
as ink paints a panorama of primrose.
As luminous streams of stars
paint my poetic sky,
stirring my moon-swept soul,
soft fire is his eyes.
I glow through starlight,
embracing our marrow’s warmth.
Let the strongest of winds come -
our hand hold will never end.
I
Anchored on a sun filtered shore
Upon rocks which lay the days of yore
In swirling pristine aquas of alluring calm
Let it serenade heal my bruised palm
To chronicle tales of my hearts longings
And memoirs of my gradual bondings
To enthral my thoughts in the expanse of time
Parading on the lowly impasse of my prime
To write poetry ,prose or mystery fiction
Titled love on a mission to submission
For winds of change will unravel the future
And the dust of defeat will cover the past
II
Invulnerable In dens of sublime realms
where embers of hope forever gleams
Sparked moments that never fade nor flicker
Down the coconut groves lining the ocean Vast
Departing the depths of calamity chosen
To savour the dews of my late night hours
And devour not the memorable endeavours
For beauty was with me in those moments
One Inevitably engulfed in avid desires
An adherent of the much awaited messiah
With amalgam of glee and humility
And simple life of truth and sincerity
III
Traversing the blissful cavalcade holds
I contemplate in dissonant folds
Harrowing scenes from the sunset vives
I linger in my skimming crimson skies
Seemingly, my life plied on out worn roads
Embalmed by these hands in worded codes
In tongues of my fore fathers decent
I will lounge in their culture with no lament
Like those who came before me
Who fought oppressors from over the sea
and their legends enshrined in echoing songs
Of "murmurs of pleasures, pains, and wrongs"
IV
Whereon mindful of the lot i ought to do
Arrayed within scenes from over the hue
Gradually with hasty steps into depths unexplored
And withdraws, into chambers of happiness and scenes adored
To let the crest of my turning tossing mind detach from fearful odds
And my blessed struggling kind flee from the twilight of the earthly gods
So my heart and soul finally infuse with the fluidity of my course
Down the avenues of my maturity
Down the patterns of my progress
Down the depths of my humility
Down the tangled maze of my life I confess...
..In swirling moon beams of alluring calm
A faith in doubt amid a battering qualm
Under clouds which housed the days of yore
On this shell and plastic littered shore.
A brainstorm in my head did rage
Releasing words my mind engaged
as these words were rearranged
They formed a poem upon my page
As I held it in my hand
A fierce wind blew
And in the wind my poem flew
Across the desert sands
Then over the hills with daffodils
Through the clouds it traveled still
Soon it went across the sea
Landing in an old oak tree
Then a hurricane came roaring through
And once again my poem flew
through the woods where butterflies roam
with sweetened words like honeycomb
When the storm was finally done
My poem once again to me did come
For the Boomerrang Contest
sentenceless clouds drift
obliterate the curtains -
wind rises higher
How the wind plays
across the water
in changing patterns,
its skittish mood drawn
in ripples and rivulets
of sparkle under
a morning sun.
The small boats fidgety
at their moorings
as if roused by longings
of freedom,
cormorants riding
the unrest on bobbing prows
with outstretched wings
drying in the wind.
See how the day
is slowly being assembled,
putting itself together
with ferry boats
and dogs pulling on leads,
wired joggers, noisy children
in school uniforms
crowding at bus stops,
workers putting up signs.
How it all seems
to be following some hidden
script. And here I am, again,
walking the morning
looking for what I lost
in the long hours
of a sleepless night
when it doesn't
have a name,
being ushered by the wind
towards a somewhere
or nowhere at all,
helped along
my shuffling way
by a strange sense
of unhurried trust
that all will be OK.
Windy,
You got that right babe,
immortal are,
immortal be,
life comes n goes eternally,
caint stop the voices,
never see,
one might be gone,
but comes back free,
eventually,
like me,
hehe.
Don Johnson
If there is no point in the universe,
if it's a total waste of time,
if man an god are similar thought,
resurrection to pay for crime,
on this hell planet, mine!!!
:(
If you search and you can't find me please don't look very far
I'm riding in the wind one step away from where you are
If you feel a tussle in the air or a rush of wind inside your hair
its the wildling child in me dispersing seeds of love, Jean Pierre
Windy days, windy words of love, whispery whispery May
weighty weighty kisses in the breeze
If your knees feel weak at the sight of a sunset and you blush
you'll match the crimson shades etched within my heart
If you dance alone by the sea and think of me I will be free
to love you as the wind does, with every breath in me
Windy days, windy words of love, whispery whispery May
weighty weighty kisses in the breeze
If you search for me and try to hold on to my frame
I'll only cling to you much harder, until you go insane
If you feel me land on you, as gentle as a butterfly
You will know what it is to love forever and never die
Windy days, windy words of love, whispery whispery May
weighty weighty kisses in the breeze
The wind's picked up,
The boughs dance and sway.
It's cold and dreary
on this Autumn day.
No work today.
In p.j.'s I'm warm,
sitting inside
watching the storm.
Bouncing boughs wave
and jump in the air.
Here inside it's warm,
not like out there.
I may or may not
get dressed on this day.
For now I'll just watch
the wind and trees play.
You explain your thoughts away.
Like cotton candy on a windy day
As your adventures never seem to end.
Talk of riding roller coasters straight to
heaven and back again.
You say you're an angel incarnate disguise.
Though you never say how you know this.
You're always wanting to sit by the sea.
You say, it's to wait for your lover, And
You're most definitely sure it's not me.
You take me on rides I've never been before.
I know I could get off your merry-go-round.
Not really sure how to do that, though.
As you show me the many possibilities of me.
Though I watch you slit your wrist.
As you let the blood run free.
And I do nothing to stop you.
Only because you want to be set free.
Fri. 11 pm 7/ 19/ 2013
I crept along, not very fast
and wished I'd heeded the newscast
on windstorm.
It was impossible to see
through all the whirling, thick, debris
from windblast.
I feared I'd bring myself disgrace
by reaching destination place
so windblown.
By: Joyce Johnson
11/15/14
For contest Fire, Earth, Wind.
preferred word: wind
Thunderstorms roared
Lightning strikes threatened
Dark clouds obscured the moon
Stars tried twinkling amidst clouds
Then the gentle breeze,
turned into a vigorous wind,
contorted the lofty coconut trees,
shattered the fluffy nimbus clouds
Naughty nimbus clouds,
then the phony politicians
played hide and seek repeatedly
unveiled the luminous moon and stars
Vigorous wild wind,
later the tsunami waves
smashed the rainy dreams
made us yearn for perpetual rain